


Going Crazy

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Barebacking, Breathplay, Ex Sex, Face Slapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Their story is over, Kyungsoo should move on. But.





	Going Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of EXO's hatefucking song, aka Going Crazy. English translation of the lyrics can be viewed [here](https://www.kpopviral.com/lyrics/exo-going-crazy-lyrics-english-romanized-translation.html).

His hands get pried away from Jongin’s hips, and the man laces their fingers together as he rocks down, soft moans escaping his lips. They’ve been at it for the last ten minutes, in near silence save for the wet noises as Jongin grinds down on his cock, and the grunts he makes whenever Kyungsoo hits a particularly good spot. It’s late, but he hasn’t seen Jongin in weeks, and he’d rather spend tomorrow groggy and tired than tonight alone.

“Baby, right there,” Jongin gasps out, fingers tightening against his own. It’s uncomfortable, bordering on painful, but he can feel the familiar pulsing around his shaft as Jongin’s orgasm approaches, and far be it from him to deny Jongin what he came for.

It takes a couple more thrusts of his hips for Jongin to seize up and whimper, hot droplets landing on Kyungsoo’s chest as Jongin continues to fuck himself on Kyungsoo’s cock, riding out his orgasm on trembling thighs. Jongin sags against him, and Kyungsoo’s fingers slip out of his to wrap around Jongin’s arms, but the other man is already rolling off and to the side. An accidental reminder, but it’s what he needed. A warm hand fists his cock, and Kyungsoo’s attention refocuses on the pleasure instead.

Except he can’t help himself. With Jongin taking care of him, his hands are once again free to roam, and they wind up in Jongin’s hair, pulling the man back to him, directing those lips back to his own. He tastes stale cocktails on Jongin’s tongue, and withdraws, turning Jongin’s face to the side and tracing down that beautiful jawline to lick at his neck.

“Careful,” Jongin warns.

Kyungsoo presses one last, lingering kiss into the skin and backs away completely. Illusion shattered again. “Sorry,” he says, body tensing as Jongin speeds up his movements.

He cums a couple of minutes later, body going taut as a bowstring as Jongin’s strokes slow to a stop. Still dazed, it takes too long to piece together the cold feeling with Jongin getting up and getting dressed. It leaves him feeling too vulnerable, naked on messy sheets, and covered in cum. Kyungsoo stands and snatches his boxers off the floor to clean up the mess. “You should shower,” he offers, keeping his gaze on the ground. Where it’s safe.

“It’s fine,” Jongin says, offering him a warm smile once he’s finally pulled his shirt over his head. “I need to shower when I get home, or I’ll fall asleep without brushing my teeth. Thanks, by the way.”

_ By the way _ . Jongin makes it seem so easy.  _ Hey, my date sucked tonight, but I’m horny, can I come over?  _ But he said yes. He always says yes. “Anytime,” Kyungsoo answers, looping a finger around one of Jongin’s and shyly tugging him back. That earns him a melodic giggle and the briefest of kisses before Jongin pulls away to go find his shoes.

“I heard you’re almost done with your residency?” Jongin asks, sounding distracted as he balances on one foot to jam a sneaker onto the other.

Kyungsoo follows him to the door, trying to memorize the length of his hair, the outfit, any markers he can keep to revisit once he's alone again. “Yeah, two more weeks,” he says.

“Congratulations, Mr. Doctor,” Jongin says, eyes twinkling as he straightens up, now fully dressed and ready to go.

“Thanks.”

Jongin’s gaze softens. “You’re gonna be too busy for me after this then, huh?” he asks in a teasing tone. But Kyungsoo can see the set in his jaw, the anticipation.

“I don’t know,” he confesses.

A forced smile flutters across Jongin’s lips and he gives Kyungsoo a playful shove before turning and unlocking the door. “Take care of yourself, babe,” he says as he leaves. Kyungsoo barely manages a “bye” before it shuts again.

His studio apartment always feels empty, but it’s compounded infinitely worse every time Jongin leaves. Ever since the first time. But they’ve tried the dating thing. Ad nauseum. Kyungsoo has no time for dating, and Jongin can’t accept a part time partner. They only hurt each other time and time again, until finally they ended it. And somehow, ending it translates to...no, they’re not friends with benefits. Exes who don’t want to move on, he supposes, would be the most apt definition. People who fuck out of convenience and habit and residual feelings. People who are walking toward the ledge and not caring. But he isn’t ready to have Jongin live only in his past. Not yet.

And he can’t lie to himself and say that if somehow more time became available, that he’d want Jongin back. Not after seeing Jongin post-break up, going out every night and bringing some new guy home. Or hearing from friends how Jongin didn’t even wait to get home sometimes before drowning himself in someone else. He can still fuck him, and whenever those memories resurface when Jongin is over, it makes for great sex, but he isn’t in a place of forgiveness yet that he can slave over dinner or clean up after for a guy who has tried so hard to replace him, when Kyungsoo hasn’t bothered to look at anyone else. And he knows that a big factor in this fidelity is that he simply hasn’t had time or energy to otherwise, but it doesn’t change that he stubbornly still holds this against Jongin. They're done. They're over. This is just the end credits. There is no sequel.

—

Jongin clenches so tightly after the slap connects, Kyungsoo’s hips stutter and he has to fight to hold back. It won’t do to have it be over so soon.

“More,” Jongin begs, straining against his bonds.

“Your wrists are gonna bruise,” Kyungsoo says snidely.

That only makes Jongin spread his legs and moan even louder, tugging harder on the restraints. “ _ More _ .”

Kyungsoo dips his head down to bite a beautifully puckered nipple, eliciting a gasp as Jongin’s body arches in response. Kyungsoo slaps him again, and Jongin whimpers, throwing his head back, neck exposed. It’s practically routine. His fingers close around Jongin’s throat and squeeze. The moans die, cut off mid breath, although Jongin continues pulling on the ties as Kyungsoo slams into his body. He’s keeping count. Just a few more seconds. His hand drops to the side, and Jongin gasps for air, babbling in broken demands for Kyungsoo to give it to him, to do it again, to give him  _ more _ . 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Kyungsoo growls, his hand connecting with Jongin’s flushed cheek again.

“Make me,” Jongin begs. He has tears trickling off the sides of his face as he tilts his neck up for more. He’s red everywhere from their activities. Red face, red handprint on his neck, red chest marked up with vicious hickies, red cock, red ass. Only fitting for someone who makes Kyungsoo see red so much that he wear it too.

“How are you going out after this?” Kyungsoo asks as another hit connects. His fingertips sting from the impact. “When your ass is full and dripping with my cum, and you look so thoroughly fucked like this? Who would want you?”

Jongin pulls so hard on the ties that the fabric makes a rip sound, threatening to give. “No one,” he sobs out. His legs wrap around Kyungsoo's waist, heels of his feet digging into Kyungsoo's ass as he tries to spur Kyungsoo into a rougher rhythm. “Please, baby.”

He wraps both hands around Jongin's neck this time, still careful that there's not too much weight or pressure being applied as hammers into Jongin's ass. Those red lips, open wide in a silent scream, start to blanch, to turn blue, and Kyungsoo releases his grip to hold onto the headboard for leverage instead. Jongin is cumming underneath him, crying in hoarse sobs as his body quakes. His cock twitches erratically between them, untouched the entire time. Even as he spills the last drops of white, Jongin's cock stays perfectly erect and red, too stimulated to be taken down so soon. He is sniveling underneath Kyungsoo now, the high of his orgasm fading to be replaced by oversensitivity.

But Jongin came here to be used, and even as his knees shake, even as he begs, Kyungsoo continues pumping into his body, hands hooking under Jongin's knees to open him up wider. He's just a warm hole, not even tight by now, for Kyungsoo to fuck. And he's close. So close.

“Soo, please,” Jongin chants, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes it. “Please,  _ please _ ! Give it to me, please.”

His orgasm hits, and Kyungsoo grits his teeth hard to only let out a drawn out grunt as he releases. It drains him all at once, and he nearly collapses. Shakily, he drops on top of Jongin, grimacing as he lands in the sticky mess on Jongin's chest. His right hand comes up to attempt to free Jongin, but he's so tanked by the orgasm, that his fingers fall uselessly into Jongin's hair.

Less than a minute later, he hears the ropes fall and lifts his head just enough to see that Jongin has untied himself. Warm hands rub up and down his back, mindless of the sweat that had gathered there.

“Are you leaving?” Kyungsoo asks before he can catch himself. 

“Yeah,” Jongin says in a resigned tone. His voice is still raspy. “I just need to catch my breath first.”

“Take as long as you want,” Kyungsoo says softly, fishing around and bringing Jongin's wrist up to his eye level to examine. “Did I hurt you?”

A dry chuckle. “Only as much as I asked for,” is the reply.

He pulls out after a few more seconds of forced cuddling, careful not to make an even bigger mess. Jongin's red hole glistens and white leaks out almost immediately. His legs snap shut to try and contain it, and Jongin makes an indignant squeal and rolls off the bed to find napkins.

“A shower…” Kyungsoo starts to suggest.

“...sounds fantastic,” finishes Jongin with a small smile. He cants his head to the side, putting on his cute face. The one he used to use whenever he got on Kyungsoo's bad side. “Join me?”

It was an honest mistake. They showered together all the time. Back then. So it was practically reflex that Kyungsoo grabbed the shampoo to wash Jongin's hair. He blames it on the short recovery time after his orgasm, but by then, his fingers are already working up a lather against the soft strands. The man rests his forehead on Kyungsoo's shoulder, and within seconds, they are cuddling together under the showerhead. Too much like old times.

“Sehun's thing is coming up,” Jongin reminds him quietly, tilting his head this way and that so Kyungsoo can scratch his scalp better.

“I got the invite,” Kyungsoo says as he pushes suds into Jongin's ears, trying to occupy his hands and his thoughts on cleaning.

“I still need a date…”

Kyungsoo pulls away to grab a loofah and the bar of soap. He smirks down at Jongin's marked up body. “That'd have to be one really understanding date,” he observes.

Jongin looks at his skin, and touches some of the love bites on his lower abdomen. They were purpling already. Most of it can be covered up, but the hickies along the column of his neck won't fade in time, nor will the bruises there from Kyungsoo's fingertips. Jongin clears his throat. “Yeah, I guess I should've thought about that before we got carried away.”

“Sorry.”

Jongin snickers and looks away, sagging against the shower wall as Kyungsoo scrubs down his back and sides. “So do  _ you  _ have a date?”

“Not yet.”

“We could...always go together,” Jongin offers.

Kyungsoo snorts and throws the loofah at him before turning around. “That never works out well,” he says, hands braced on the wall so Jongin can get his back.

“Depends on your definition of ‘never works out well’,” Jongin counters.

“My definition,” Kyungsoo says over his shoulder as Jongin presses the loofah in small circles into his lower back, “would be us thinking we should give it another shot, yet again, only to realize nothing has changed, but pretending that we don’t see anything wrong, until it can build up to a fantastic, fireworks show of a fight where we don’t know if we’ll ever see each again and you hog all of our friends in the meantime.”

The hand on his lower back stills. That might have been a bit too much honesty.

“I-I mean…” Except he has nothing he can patch up that word vomit with. The hand resumes its motions, with a lot less pressure and more hurried movements this time. Jongin finishes and pulls away, rinsing the loofah and himself one last time before climbing out of the shower silently.

By the time Kyungsoo’s finished washing off, Jongin’s already gone. His phone is blinking. Kyungsoo finishes toweling off his hair and walks over to check it.

**_Jongin:_ ** _  
_ _ Had something come up gtg _

There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, but this was predictable from the moment he recognized Jongin’s knock on the front door earlier. It’s always going to be the same cycle until they finally give up. He needs to get better at accepting this for all it can be. And Jongin does too.

—

His date’s voice has receded so far into the background, it could be used for an ASMR video. He hates himself a little, because he knows this is a conscious choice, ultimately, but Jongin has finally arrived at this swanky party, and he...he hasn’t seen Jongin dressed to impress like this in a while. And one moment, he’s sitting and knocking back overly sweet champagne with Jongdae, who’s perfectly lovely, and very excited to get to know him better; and the next he’s walking toward Jongin. Stalking would be the more appropriate term. He’s closing the distance like he’s sighted his prey and going in for the kill. The bastard. Jongin has the gall to look his way and flash a smile in greeting.

“Hey baby,” leaves his lips. That’s not what we had rehearsed, brain.

Jongin’s features freeze for a split second before he laughs out an airy chuckle, eyes darting around for an exit, no doubt. “Hey, Soo…” he says slowly, glancing over at the man on his side, who is bristling at Kyungsoo’s presence. “Have you been drinking?”

“Ahh sorry,” Jongdae interjects, stepping up next to Kyungsoo and trying to nudge his arm. “He might’ve had one too many.”

“I miss you,” Kyungsoo says. He sees only Jongin. He cares only to talk to him right now. “I’m sorry.”

Jongin’s eyes are piercing, afire as he glares holes into Kyungsoo’s face. “So clearly we missed happy hour, but we’re here,” he grinds out. “We’re just gonna go mingle.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Kyungsoo pleads, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. He can feel Jongdae walking away, muttering something under his breath. To Jongin’s side, his date takes a step closer and turns to look at him incredulously.

And Jongin...Jongin wears a thin smile as he plucks Kyungsoo’s hand away, and lets out another laugh, this time not nearly as convincing. “Exes, right?” he drawls, looking at Kyungsoo but directing the question toward his date. It’s enough to placate the other man, and they flee toward the main body of the party a moment later, leaving Kyungsoo standing alone in the hallway. He should feel embarrassed, but this has happened so many times now, in so many forms, that it’s almost comfortable.

—

At the sight of a familiar figure, Kyungsoo jogs the rest of the way toward his front door. It’s been over a month since that disaster at the party, and Jongin’s been stubbornly dodging all of his calls and texts. No hookups. No accidental run-ins. He’s been ghosted. And yet here Jongin is, leaning against the wall of his porch.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo pants out as he approaches. The goofy smile spreads across his face even as he remembers their last meeting. This current one might not welcome a smile, he realizes too late.

“Hey,” Jongin answers monotonously. His lips make a thin line as he crosses his arms and waits. So inside they go then, Kyungsoo supposes.

“You want anything?” Kyungsoo asks, walking toward the fridge to pull out a soda. He glances back to see Jongin shaking his head. The man makes no move to take his shoes off and come further into the house. “What’s up?”

“I got a job offer.”

Kyungsoo blinks. “Congratulations,” he says, trying to inject some excitement into the word. “That’s great.”

“It’s in America.”

He’s still confused as to why he’s being told this. Or even why Jongin is here. Rather, honestly, a part of him is confused. Another part is clawing at the surface, demanding he take action. Tie Jongin to his bed or something. “Oh,” is all that comes out. It sounds more like a rush of air than a word. Like the grunt you’d make when you’re caught off guard by a Louisville Slugger to the gut.

Jongin swallows heavily and looks down at the floor. He starts pacing, a couple of meters back and forth by the front door. “So I figured we should talk about it,” he says.

“Talk?”

An odd laugh bubbles out of Jongin’s lips, sounding more like a sob than something that could be mistaken for happiness. “Do you think we have any chances left?” he asks, finally looking back up. His eyes are shining.

“I…” He feels his own eyes welling, burning.

“I want to stay,” Jongin continues. “I want-... I-... Maybe it’s a sign? But all I could think about was this.” He makes a circling motion with his fingertips, between the two of them, as a tear trails down his cheek. It’s caught and wiped away before it can reach his lips, where a heavy sigh comes out. “I don’t know why I’m here, to be honest.”

His chest is on fire in an instant. “Don’t go…”

A sniffle precedes the next set of tears, and Jongin claps a hand over his mouth for several seconds before he can gather himself enough to continue. “Sehun says that we can get over anything,” he hiccups out, panic building as he speaks. “We just have to make the opportunity for ourselves to do so.”

“Jongin—” The word sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth. Since they’ve started dating, it’s been terms of endearment or nicknames. Even after the breakup, the pattern has just kind of stuck. Full names are for when they’re arguing, but they’re not arguing now.

“So if we can’t see each other anymore,” Jongin gasps, hands pressed into his eyelids as he tries to calm his voice. “And we can’t be tempted to go back to old habits, we can just eventually move on.”

He practically sprints over to Jongin. Carefully, like he’s cornering a caged animal, Kyungsoo cups Jongin’s shoulders and pulls him in. “Please, let’s talk about this,” Kyungsoo begs.

Jongin laughs dryly into his shoulder. “Did you want one last romp to remember me by?”

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says as the tears spill over. “Please don’t go.”

Another laugh. Bitter, this time. “I love you too,” Jongin says tearfully. “Love isn’t the issue. Love isn’t enough.”

“Please,” Kyungsoo begs again, “please don’t go.”

“Why,” Jongin says, sounding drained. He probably went through this argument by himself at least a few times before he came here. “So we can have maybe a month or two of happiness again? For it to get chipped away because you’re too busy to have any room left for me other than as a cook and a maid and a sex toy for when you’re horny?” He sniffles again, and wipes at his face with his arms. “I really don’t know why I came. This was such a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo grabs his arms as the other man turns to leave. “Please,” he repeats.

“Please, will I turn down this job, please do what you were never willing to do, and put us first, so when we eventually break up again, I’ll lose you _and_ a great opportunity as well?”

“Please,” Kyungsoo says, head spinning, “just tell me what I have to do.”

“If we could fix this thing with words, Soo, do you think we wouldn’t have tried that already?”

“I can make time—” he rushes to promise.

“How many times have you made time?”

“Baby…”

Jongin laughs mirthlessly, and then covers his eyes again, dragging his hands down his face. “God, I hate you so much,” he says. “I’m too fucking old and tired to fall for this again.” He pries Kyungsoo’s hands off of him once more, and they step apart. Kyungsoo can still reach out and touch him, but the space between them feels so far now. A chasm apart. He feels hollow.

And then Jongin turns, swings the door open, and walks out. And inside him, the hollowness somehow grows.

—

Airports must be portals to Hell. Kyungsoo is convinced. He’s been waiting here for three hours now, and not sure if the end is even in sight. The plane was supposed to land ages ago. The flowers in his carefully selected bouquet are looking more pathetic by the second as he dodges and weaves between people reuniting with their loved ones. He’s too focused on trying to parse out the latest announcement when someone taps on his shoulder and a familiar voice calls his name.

“Roses? Really?” Jongin asks, yanking the bouquet from his hands and stuffing his face into the petals to inhale deeply.

“Who says they were for you?” Kyungsoo chirps as he does his best to crush the bouquet between them, squeezing Jongin tightly. He smells like stale airplane air, but he smells like Jongin too underneath.

“Where’s the crew?”

Kyungsoo gives him a sheepish smile. “I told them that since the airport is so chaotic, it’d be better if just one of us went…”

Jongin steps back and looks around in amusement. “Ahh, okay,” he teases. “Well, I’m hungry and tired and dirty, and since you’re the only one here, the onus is on you to take care of all of these things.”

As if Kyungsoo didn’t plan for just that. “I guess,” he retorts, exaggeratedly stumbling when Jongin gives him a shove.

It’s been over a year since they last saw each other. Jongin doggedly avoided him the entire time he waited for his work visa to be approved, and then he somehow managed to blackmail all of their friends into secrecy on his departure details. Only when he was finally in America, only once he had settled in and started working, gotten into a regular routine, did he message Kyungsoo early one morning. They haven't stopped speaking since.

He dated Jongdae briefly. The saint actually forgave his shitty behavior at Sehun’s party, and their stint lasted for...almost two weeks. Any free time he had, unfortunately, could only go to one person. Brief as it was, it was still so awkward, telling Jongin about his boyfriend in their daily chats. But he tells himself that it is healthy, especially since Jongin has always been an oversharer when it comes to _his_ relationships. They were learning to be friends again. That was something they had lost once words like love started getting thrown around, all those years ago, until words like commitment and taken for granted came along.

Except now they're both single again, and Jongin is coming home. For two whole weeks. Much as he'd like to, he's been told it's impossible to hoard all of Jongin's time while he's back in Korea. Jongin came home to visit his family and to handle some work related matters. Being on the other side, being the one who has to vie for attention and time for once, it...it feels different. He doesn't like it.

A part of him is sulky. Already, he had to wrestle with time zone differences, forcing himself to wake up early on some days and staying up late on others in order to catch Jongin, to work around his schedule. To have Jongin home now, to have him _so close_ , and not be able to overdose on Jongin exposure seems criminally unfair.

Jongin walks out of the bathroom, not even bothering to wrap a towel around himself. He's got one in his hair, tousling it and sending errant water droplets everywhere as Kyungsoo squeals and rolls to the far side of the bed to avoid getting dripped on.

“Ass,” Kyungsoo giggles.

“Ahhh,” Jongin moans blissfully, spreading out over the sheets with his eyes closed. “I feel human again.”

“Your phone's been going off,” Kyungsoo admits. Jongin's family is probably dying to see him, and as much as he'd like to steal a few more minutes, that's not up to him to decide.

Jongin doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, he loops a hand around Kyungsoo's neck and pulls him down. Their lips come together so naturally, as if they haven't spent even one day apart. Just as Kyungsoo tries to deepen it, Jongin pushes him back and looks into his eyes.

“Something wrong?” Kyungsoo asks a little breathlessly. He had hoped, but he didn't think it would just happen so easily.

Jongin stares at him, his own face unreadable. “Do you still love me?”

The question catches him off guard. His mouth flaps uselessly for several dumbfounded seconds. Where is he supposed to even start?

Jongin laughs as he rolls over and climbs into Kyungsoo's lap. “I just wanted to see how you'd react,” he says, averting his eyes as his mouth forms a thin line. “You should've seen th-...the look on your face.”

“I do.” A beat too late, but it's hard to just turn off that filter. They've been playing at just being friends again for the past year.

Another laugh. “Yeah, me too,” Jongin replies in a high, goofy voice as he scoots down Kyungsoo's body.

Kyungsoo tries to argue, but Jongin already has his pants down, and is sucking him to hardness. One year without Jongin's touch. His mind blanks as waves of pleasure wash over him.

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says once he's recovered some of his senses and drags Jongin back up to mash their lips together again. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh yeah? No one else sucks your cock like me, huh?” Jongin asks, coughing out another laugh as he tries to slide back down, but he’s held in place as Kyungsoo rolls them over.

“Not your mouth,” Kyungsoo says, even as he stares helplessly down at it. “You.”

“Well, here I am.” Jongin spreads his arms out with a smirk on his face. “So what are you gonna do to me?”

“Beg you to stay,” he answers bluntly.

The cocky look on Jongin’s face falters. He tries to recover with an even more strained smile as he bats his lashes. “C’mon then, Kyungsoo,” Jongin purrs, tracing a finger across Kyungsoo’s lips. “Beg then.”

He takes the name like a slap to the face. “Baby…” Kyungsoo whispers.

“Mm, yeah,” Jongin nips at his lips and urges him downward. “Touch me, daddy.”

Kyungsoo tries a few more times to bring them back to talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. The moment was gone, missed, and Jongin is no longer willing to listen. At least for now. Instead, they wind up parallel on the bed, sucking each other off while he fingers Jongin open, the desperation for some sort of resolution temporarily filled with the need to just keep Jongin here. He realigns as they’re still reeling from their orgasms, kissing Jongin deeply as his fingers continue to lazily pump away. As long as it stays on sexual terms, apparently Jongin is more than willing to let him do as he pleases.

“Faster,” Jongin whimpers, trying to rock his hips back. Except if he’s not going to listen, then Kyungsoo’s not taking any suggestions now either. They’re on their sides, spooning, with Kyungsoo keeping the pace slow, languid, as he pumps into Jongin’s body, a hand stroking Jongin’s cock lazily. There’s already at least one fight brewing on the horizon. He might as well enjoy this.

He can’t help but comment though, “You’re so tight, baby.”

Jongin lets out the first real laugh since they’ve come back to Kyungsoo’s place. He can feel the vibrations from it all down his dick. “You’ve no idea how hard it is to find someone who’ll top in Texas,” Jongin snickers.

Possessiveness forces him to dip in and leave yet another mark on Jongin’s neck, the other either enjoying the sensation too much to care, or possibly wanting it as much as he does. He chooses to believe the latter. “So was everything bigger in Texas?” he asks, speeding up incrementally.

“How many times are you gonna ask me that?” Jongin says, sounding too amused. “And it hardly mattered how big they were if all they wanted was to get dicked.” He gasps as he’s tilted forward so Kyungsoo can get a better angle, his hips bouncing in loud slaps off of Jongin’s ass. “O-oh,” he stutters, “oh, right there!”

“And did you dick them, baby?” Kyungsoo asks, pushing Jongin flat onto his stomach so he can ram into him even harder. Jongin cries out and fists the sheets before being forced to brace his hands against the headboard to keep from faceplanting into it as Kyungsoo fucks him roughly.

“Yep,” Jongin taunts as he grunts from the impact. “And they loved it. I’ve told you.”

The words have a strange numbing effect. He can feel himself slipping more into the moment, less in his head, as Kyungsoo’s thoughts flee more to the pleasure building in his gut to abandon the images his mind has conjured up of Jongin with someone else. Some _ones_ else.

Underneath him, Jongin writhes as he nears his release, but Kyungsoo is so busy being in his own headspace, that his orgasm takes him off guard. He pulls out after a minute to fill Jongin back up with his fingers, weakly twisting in as Jongin rolls to his side for Kyungsoo to smoothly slide his lips down Jongin’s cock. He cums in seconds, much less than last time, and Kyungsoo swallows it all before pulling back off.

“I needed that,” Jongin declares breathlessly, eyes closed as he recovers.

“The orgasms?” Kyungsoo asks, before he can stop himself. “Or me?”

“Yeah,” is the mumbled nonanswer as Jongin rolls away from him and scoots back so they’re once again spooning.

The mental fog is clearing. He wraps an arm around Jongin’s waist, trying to imagine that that’s all that needs to be done to keep him here. “I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo whispers into Jongin’s sweaty nape.

“Don’t be,” is the curt response. “It was fun.”

“How can I show you that I’m serious?” he asks. “That I’ve changed?”

Jongin is tense again. “I leave in two weeks, Soo,” he says warily.

“We talk everyday,” Kyungsoo starts. “ _Every_ day. With you on the other side of the world. We can make it work this time.”

It takes almost a minute for Jongin to respond. “Or this can just be goodbye,” he says softly, talking over Kyungsoo’s attempts at arguing. “Maybe we should give that a shot this time. We haven’t actually tried that.”

Panic causes him to tighten his grip across Jongin’s stomach, the illusion of control. “I don’t want that…”

Jongin squirms. “My parents probably think we crashed and died on the highway somewhere,” he says, eager to change the subject. “We should head out.”

In the car, Jongin is all lighthearted smiles again. He had adamantly refused to continue their conversation, instead opting to roll away and rinse off again before grabbing Kyungsoo’s keys and waiting not-so-patiently for Kyungsoo to give up. As Kyungsoo backs out of his parking spot, a hand covers his on the stick shift and squeezes.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Kyungsoo insists.

Jongin doesn’t argue. Instead, he leaves his hand there and stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by. He hums along to the radio for nearly twenty minutes until an older song comes on and his hand tightens over Kyungsoo’s.

“Sing this for me,” Jongin hesitantly requests.

He obliges, clearing his throat nervously and trying out a few bars before finding his pacing. This was his go-to song for breakfast in bed, or belting out at the noraebang on one of the rare nights they stayed out late, getting shitfaced and acting like idiots. He remembers the long shifts at work, where he was struggling to stay awake, and the song will come on, requested by a mysterious KJI for his DKS, and texting Jongin that he needed to go to sleep already.

The air is heavy in the car as they finally pull up to the driveway. Jongin’s hand slips off of his own, but stay at his side, and he doesn’t go for the door. They’re both still under the spell of the song, and now Kyungsoo is tempted to blurt out so many things, but cowers at the idea of shattering the moment. Finally, Jongin turns to face him again, eyes shining. He doesn’t say anything though, only watching Kyungsoo expectantly. Waiting. Waiting is good. Waiting is better than moving on.

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says quietly, for the umpteenth time today. How much more sincerity can he pour into three words? “Make time for me. I’ll prove it to you.”

“I know you love me,” Jongin sounds tired, eyes dropping to his hands. “Th—”

“Make time for me,” he repeats. “I’ll prove we can work.”

What starts off as a laugh fades into a resigned sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve asked you for that more than once,” Jongin says, bringing a hand up to the door handle.

“ _Before_ ,” Kyungsoo reminds him. He can see in Jongin’s eyes, in the way his lips shape, that he’s on the verge of shutting the door again, and rushes to keep it open. “Just one last chance?”

“...Soo, I—”

“We deserve one last chance.”

Jongin purses his lips. “Baby—”

A flicker of hope. He seizes the opportunity. “Tonight,” he says quickly. “After everyone’s gotten to see you again. We can go out.”

“A date isn’t going to fix this.” There’s steel behind his eyes again. “And besides, you’re gonna have to work in the morning.”

“No, I don’t,” he says, punctuating it with a shake of his head. “I took off for your whole trip.”

Jongin gives him a surprised look. “...Why would you do that.” He starts to explain, but Jongin cuts him off. “You know my schedule is packed full my entire time here.”

Kyungsoo nods quickly. “I know. All I’m asking is you make some time for me. That’s it.” Does he need further convincing? What more can he do? “I’ve saved up my holidays,” he hurries out. “I can fly back with you after this.”

Jongin laughs, doubt heavy in his voice. “What, are you moving to America now?”

“I can,” he offers. “But I had looked up the trip before you got here. I can go for a week. You said you might be coming back next month. I can fly back the next. We can make it work.”

“...You’re actually suggesting a long distance relationship as the answer to our problems.”

“Yes.” _Please_.

Jongin closes his eyes and breathes steadily through his mouth, taking several long, deep exhales before he opens his eyes again. He struggles for a bit to form words, vacillating expressions between annoyance and disbelief. “...Let’s just start with a date first,” he finally says.

—

Jongin tilts the skewer of ddeokggochi toward Kyungsoo’s face in offering, and pouts as Kyungsoo picks off the top two rice cakes with his teeth. “Greedy!” he scolds.

“Wahh,” Kyungsoo garbles out once he bites down, fanning his open mouth in a panic. “Ohmygaw, hawh!”

“Did you somehow miss the steam bath coming off of them?” Jongin asks, not a trace of sympathy in his voice as he nibbles delicately on one of the crispy ends.

Kyungsoo can’t even manage an answer, arms flailing toward Jongin until he finally hands over the soda. _Finally_ , some relief for the remains of his taste buds, and he whines as he chews on the now odd mix of gojuchang, ketchup, and Sprite flavored gooey rice. “You could’ve warned me!”

“The lady literally pulled this stick straight out of spitting hot oil to dip into the sauce and hand to us. Like...you were there, watching,” Jongin says. His smirk only grows as Kyungsoo pouts at him.

“We should find some sundae,” Kyungsoo suggests after they’ve wolfed down their second stick.

“Ooh, yeah,” Jongin says, eyes lighting up with excitement.

He had forgotten how easy their dates used to be, if you could even call them that. They just wander the streets aimlessly for hours, snacking on food carts whenever they got hungry. More than once, they’ve accidentally walked too far out, and had to hail a cab back, falling asleep on each other as they stumble home. What a strange thing to blank out of his memory, that they used to have such simple times.

What a strange experience _now_ , to be going through these _new_ simple times. Two weeks have flown by like a dream, and he’s growing increasingly, painfully aware that they’re ticking down to the final hours of Jongin’s stay. His plane ticket is already secured, his bags packed, but there’s still that sneaking doubt that lingers, that maybe they really can’t keep the magic going after the honeymoon. He is determined, but memory reminds him he’s been determined before.

To his credit, Jongin has not voiced any of his own doubts. Maybe he’s fully embraced the chance, or maybe he’s just waiting for the other foot to drop and is doing his best to play along until then. But Kyungsoo can’t tell, for once.

They’re snickering as they move around on Kyungsoo’s bed, several hours later. Their last stop had been a lemonade stand, and now every movement makes swishing sounds from their too-full bellies. With some effort, he finally manages to wrestle his briefs off to slither up between Jongin’s legs, hissing as Jongin squeezes the bottle of lube, sending a jet of cold liquid onto his lower abdomen.

“You _motherfucker_ ,” Kyungsoo wheezes, sloppily smearing the lube down over his dick and lining up.

Jongin cackles. “Get in me, lover.”

The sex starts off with peals of giggles and too many breaks to laugh to the point of tears from their stomachs doing their best water jug impressions, but once Kyungsoo connects in the right spot, the mirth slips from Jongin’s face, replaced in an instant by escalating moans. Jongin’s hand flies over his cock. He’s half bent over so he can watch as Kyungsoo fucks in and out of his hole, whimpering along to each thrust.

Afterward, as the smeared white lines are cooling against Jongin’s golden skin, Jongin finally asks the sixty-four million dollar question.

“Are you nervous?”

His finger stills on its path down Jongin’s nose bridge, and Kyungsoo finds himself staring blankly into Jongin’s eyes, debating whether he should lie.

“...Yes,” he says quietly. He had said it was time for change, after all.

“Me too,” Jongin answers in a hushed whisper.

It’s worse when Jongin has to leave, back to his parents’ house before their flight in the morning. He doesn’t want to be alone in his head right now. But Kyungsoo drops him off, stalling with kisses in the car for as long as he can, and watches the door shut behind him as Jongin goes inside.

His phone goes off before he can even turn onto his street. It’s a Facetime call from Jongin, and Kyungsoo hurries home just to miss it by a second. He rolls his eyes to the heavens and calls back, one hand balancing the phone, the other trying to get his door open. Jongin’s face loads on the screen, pixelated and choppy until it rights itself a few seconds later.

“What-....where _are_ you?” Jongin asks, squinting into his camera.

“I’m outside, hang on,” Kyungsoo says, putting his shoulder into it to twist the key into the lock. _Finally_. His shoes drop off and get kicked into their usual spot as he locks the door behind him and crosses the small room to fall back into bed. It smells like Jongin and sex and he needs to change them before they leave tomorrow, but the scent is soothing right now. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got home safely,” Jongin says.

“I barely made it,” Kyungsoo deadpans, voice muffled by the sheets.

“I see that,” Jongin answers. “Now go to sleep.”

“That’s it?”

On screen, Jongin sticks his tongue out petulantly before curling it up to lick seductively over his upper lip. “You need to rest. Sleeping on planes suck, and it’s a long ass flight. If I don’t tell you to sleep, you’re gonna end up putting on One Piece or something.”

“I was not,” Kyungsoo declares, miffed.

Jongin doesn’t answer, instead choosing to stare at the screen, one eyebrow quirked.

“...I was gonna catch up on Naruto.”

“He has a kid, names him Boruto, and the whole show repeats, but everything starts with a B now. Ta-da, Naruto.”

“Asshole,” Kyungsoo giggles, “ _spoilers_.”

“Go to bed, baby.”

He hums an acknowledgement. “I’ll see you at six.”

—

“Did you take an Uber?” Jongin asks once he steps into the apartment.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says from the kitchen, looting through plastic bags for things that need to be refrigerated. “How was work?”

Jongin pecks him on the cheek. “Fucked my knee up a bit,” he says as he climbs onto a stool and spreads his upper half across the island counter. “Where’d you go?”

Kyungsoo holds the bags up in place of an answer and finishes putting away everything except for two cups of yogurt, pushing one down the smooth surface toward Jongin’s arms. He pulls two spoons out from a drawer and walks over, tapping the back of Jongin’s head with one gently until he finally sits up to take it.

“I live right next to a grocery store,” Jongin says as he scoops up a spoonful.

“This other place has that good hot sauce we can never find.”

“Ooh.”

Kyungsoo nods proudly. It’s only taken like four trips to America for him to find this magical store. “And they have like organic honey and—”

“Pretty sure _all_ honey is organic honey,” Jongin interjects.

“This one said it on the _label_.”

Jongin smirks around his next bite. “Honey is bee barf. They can’t really get it anywhere else. That’s just marketing.”

He tries to boop Jongin with his spoon, only for the other to clamp his teeth down and yank the utensil away, nesting it together with his own and double-spooning his next bite. “Hey!” Kyungsoo exclaims.

“That’s for leaving,” Jongin simpers.

They wrestle over the spoons for the next minute. Jongin remains victorious, smugly finishing the last of his yogurt while Kyungsoo is stuck having to squeeze his container to get access. “I had to get groceries!” he argues.

“I meant tomorrow.” Jongin’s mouth forms a pout. “I don’t want you to go home.”

Hearing Jongin still refer to Korea as “home” gives him this tingly feeling. Kyungsoo sidles up to him and rubs his back in long, soothing strokes before snatching one of the spoons away with a shout. But Jongin doesn’t play along, remaining unamused.

“You can’t go next month, huh?” Kyungsoo confirms.

Jongin makes a face and sets the empty cup down with a sigh. “Not for a couple of months, no.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“I know it’ll be okay…” Jongin says, picking at his nails. “I just don’t like missing you.”

The wait is killing him. Kyungsoo wets his lips to stall for a few more seconds. “Maybe you won’t. I might be able to swing back here soon.”

Jongin looks up immediately. “What? You can visit? When!”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo says, feigning disappointment. “I don’t know if I can _visit…_ ”

“... _What_?”

“Well,” he starts, feeling the smirk creep up again, “before I went to the grocery store, I was at an interview…” Jongin’s face is still full of confusion. He doesn’t get it yet. “It was the last one. They made me an offer, but it’s not exactly temporary…”

“...You have a job offer? You’re gonna...you’re gonna _move_ here?” Jongin confirms.

“Should I?”

“Do Kyungsoo!”

He might get slapped at this rate. Kyungsoo throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I already said yes?”

Jongin’s mouth opens and shuts several times, but nothing comes out. His hands stay hovering in the air by his head, forgotten, as he stares. “... _When_?” he asks, a minute later.

“I still have to go home tomorrow,” Kyungsoo explains, cooing and pulling Jongin’s face to his chest as he sees tears well up in the other man’s eyes. “But it’s just so I can pack and get everything settled. I’ll be back in less than a month.”

Jongin sniffles and burrows into his shirt. “Is this for real?” he asks.

“Of course,” Kyungsoo says, petting his hair. He’s feeling overwhelmed now that the news is out in the open too, and he laughs to himself as his own tears fall. “Is that okay?”

A sob vibrates against his chest, turning into a soft laugh at the end. “A whole month though?” Jongin asks, like they haven’t gone months with only Skype for company.

He scoffs, and Jongin manages to let out a weak giggle against his now-soaked shirt. “I’ll bring you back a whole suitcase of those chips you like, to make up for it.”

This laugh is better. “Promise?” Jongin asks.

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> So At1stSight attempted to beta this, but I kind of didn't warn her what it was about (because this was TOTALLY spur of the moment, unplanned, random ass pain), so she might have short-circuited somewhere near the beginning of this mess. But it was better with her looking over it, definitely, and she's a saint. As for this, yeah, it was a clusterfuck, and they were a hot ass mess, but I hope you enjoyed it?


End file.
